Adept
by moon so bright
Summary: Accidental magic - the wild, internal magic of children acting in accordance to their deepest desires. With this, a desperate plea for safety, and an overheard wish... well, let's just say nothing's like before.
1. Chapter 1

**Rant: Okay. I lied. Here's another story. The chapters will be short, though. I will work on it in between my other works.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own the Heralds of Valdemar series.**

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The girl was alone in the darkness of the cupboard. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had given her a beating, several vicious kicks from Vernon and quite a few harsh strikes from Petunia with one of Vernon's belts, after Dudley stole some of their money to go buy candy, and cast the blame on the girl.

In the miniscule stream of light from the cracks between the door and the wall, dust caught the light and floated thickly in the confined space. She coughed in the thick air, causing pain to further wrack her body. One of the spiders that lived with her in her cupboard crawled onto her. It tickled, and the laughter from the ticklish sensation caused her to go into another fit of coughing.

A hot, metallic wetness filled her mouth after her coughing finished, and her as everything faded into the darkness, the only thing that filled her mind was the desperate plea to anyone or anything that could possibly hear her was the frantic wish to be anywhere else. Anywhere but in this cupboard, in this horrible place hiding beneath the façade of normalness, anywhere but with these 'decent' people.

When even the pain was gone into the oblivion of unconsciousness alongside her, she was gone. Unknown to her, her plea was heard.

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Elsewhere, in a castle far to the north of the little girl in the small cupboard, small, shiny devices of bronze and brass and silver trim in a cluttered office stopped spinning. An old man with twinkling blue eyes and beard so long he had it tied around his trousers like an organic belt turned swiftly in his seat to see what had happened. His eyes dimmed at the sight of the stilled devices, and gained a distinctly unhappy gleam. He got up from his comfortable, mellow gold-cushioned chair, spun towards the fireplace. Grabbing a fistful of silvery powder on the top of the mantelpiece, he flung it into the crackling flames. They turned from a cheerful orange and yellow to an emerald green, and shouted "Number Thirteen Wisteria Walk."

Emerging into a living room filled with cats, he greeted the shocked elderly woman in the room. Giving swift greetings and apologies, he made his way to the nearby address of Number Four Privet Drive, and passed the identical homes in that particular suburb of Little Winging until he arrived at the equally drab and plain home that he was seeking. Seeing that no car was in the driveway, and that it appeared that nobody was at home, he moved towards the front step.

With a gesture of his hand, the door unlocked, swinging open and casting an almost ominous shadow in the dusk. Nobody was home, as he had assumed, but he could feel the remnants of a great and powerful magic within the home. The sensation of that magic worried him – desperation, pain, and fear. A desperate plea for safety: that which this place was supposed to be for young Heather.

What he found slowly increased his worry. In a small cupboard under the stairs, he found a small, tattered and bare mattress with a few old, raggedy clothes surrounding it. The entire cupboard had bits of blood and he could see the stains on the mattress. Most of all he could feel the magic in the small, enclosed space, and the emotions tied to it.

He closed the door to the small cupboard with his magic, careful to touch nothing, and made his way to the bland living room and sat on the uncomfortable chair in the corner, and waited for the Dursley family to return.

Three hours later, they did, and when they came into the room where he sat, buoyed with the joy of their night out, he rose from his seat, and released some of his magical power. His eyes glowed with fury; his beard came loose and flew about in the wind that his power had raised. Their faces turned from joy to fear, and he felt some small amount of shame at the satisfaction he felt at their terror.

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He arranged for Mrs. Figg to meet with the police and report the child she had not seen in over a week. The Dursley Family would be under investigation by the police for abuse and, it seemed to them, possible homicide.

It went through, and both parents in the Dursley family were sent to prison, and the child was sent to a foster home where he would be raised to be a far better person than he otherwise would be.

While the justice served on Petunia and Vernon filled him with a grim satisfaction, still he worried for the missing child, and guilt filled his entire being over the fact that he'd placed her their. Worry, as well, for if he had made such a mistake in so important an area, where else could he have been mistaken?

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Starfall was lounging in his _ekele,_ munching on a few grapes that had been delivered ten minutes earlier by a _hertasi_ – one of the lizard people who did many of the menial tasks in many of the Vales in exchange for respect and safety – while contemplating some of the recent incursions on Hardorn by a recently reunified fragment of the Empire. Apparently, one of the remaining greater nobles nearest to the Alliance had turned to the dark path of blood magery in an effort to gain enough power to keep control over his lands.

He'd done so, but in the process he had gained an addiction to the usage of blood magery. Makarth, the noble in question, seemed to be in control of it – meaning he wasn't slaughtering his population or killing his land for more power like Ancar had. He was, instead, torturing and killing criminals to get the power. Using this power, much of which he had stored in a well for future use, he was solidifying his domain, which consisted of his original domain and that land which he had already taken over.

So far, he was just testing the borders of their Hardornen allies, but –

Snap!

The harsh sound – sickeningly similar to the sound of a breaking bone – was accompanied by a small, ragged figure appearing about three feet in the air on the other side of his room, as well as the sensation of very powerful magic touched lightly by divinity. The figure fell, and he jumped up from where he sat and rushed over to the fallen form, only to see that it was a small child of about six years of age – a girl, battered and bloodied and bruised.

He called out for aid, from either a _hertasi_ or another citizen of k'Valdemar Vale. In moments, one of the _hertasi_ arrived, took one look at the girl crumpled on the floor, and then dashed out to Keisha – k'Valdemar Vale's Healer, as well as the wife of the Vale's leader, Da'rian. In mere minutes, the woman with golden-brown hair strode into his _ekele_, face set in a mask of determination at hearing the news about a hut child, and seemed prepared to do her duty.

"Who is she, Starfall," she asked, kneeling before the fallen form, "And how exactly did she get here, in your home?"

"Never met her before, but it is some sort of magic I've never even heard of before. I'm not sure of its origin, because of that. She just popped in here, a few feet into the air where she dropped like a stone. I think it was some sort of accidental magic fuelled by desperation."

"I can see why she would be desperate, given her condition." The healer was inspecting the damage as she spoke, physically and with her gift. "Half-healed fractured ribs, some internal bleeding in her abdomen, the bleeding whip marks on her back, and a concussion. She's also malnourished – the poor thing seems to be half-starved. She's much too pale, as well."

The old mage's lips thinned at hearing the diagnosis. "Come on," she said, gathering the girl in her arms like a groom would a bride, "Let's take her to the Hall of Healing."

He nodded, and followed her as she stood up and made her way through his comfortable home and then out through the winding paths of the Vale to the building she used to check on and heal her patients. The building was built more in the Valdemaran fashion, meaning it was far more geometrical and was located on the ground, rather than in the more organic Tayledras style, many of which were often built upon or inside of the trees that flourished in the Vale.

After Starfall grabbed the door for the Healer, the child was brought to a bed, and had the rags stripped off of her. Bending over the fallen form, Keisha began her work. The healing continued long into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own wither the Harry Potter series or the Valdemar Universe. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Mercedes Lackey, respectively. Seriously, if I owned those series, things would be a lot different, or focused on completely different aspects or eras.**

** Rant: Yeah, I wrote this up after finishing the first draft of Gambler. I gotta say, after a long story like that, this short and sweet piece on a completely different topic just sort of flowed. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy this tale. **

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Three days after her unannounced arrival, the girl woke up. She was terrified, and had no idea where she was. Everybody around her spoke in some strange language – one she couldn't even recognize, like she could from some languages spoken by actors on the television. They were all dressed strangely, in colorful clothes and in exotic styles. Their hair was died to resemble birds, or braided with beads or feathers.

She spent much of the time she was awake curled up into a ball, confused. She wasn't in her cupboard, so Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were sure to punish her. These strange people were certainly the evil Freaks that would gobble her up, too. She shivered, thinking on how Aunt Petunia had told her that they especially liked little Freaks like her.

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Tyrsell, King-Stag of the _dyheli_ – the telepathic deer-like beings who lived alongside the peoples of the Vales – projected what he found in the child's mind to the Council. It was horrifying, really. Years of degradation by her own relatives, solidifying – in her mind at least – that the girl was useless, and the lowest of the low. It was, frankly, even more terrible than the inference Darian had misunderstood by the villagers of Errold's Grove that Darian was worthless, and could only be apprenticed to the low-status individual Justyn, a Wizard who had lost the ability to channel a lot of his magic after he was injured in the war against Ancar. They had seen him as pretty much useless, as most of what he did for the village didn't actually use any magic, and so Darian like he was worth no more than rubbish.

Unlike the villagers, however, it was clear that the girl's aunt and uncle had intended for this to happen. It was, in a word, sickening. Darian's lips thinned, as did Lord Breon's. Keisha was biting her lip in distress, while Firesong and Starfall just looked furious, as did several others in the Tayledras contingent. The Heralds had the vague look on their faces, which was often seen when they were speaking with their Companions. The Errold's Grove contingent looked disapproving at the concept that anyone could treat his or her own kin in such a fashion. Kel, the gryphon, looked even more fierce than usual.

The meeting had been called because somebody had used an unknown magic to appear within the Vale's defenses. It was both worrying and intriguing – the ability to bypass their magical protections was indeed worrying; however, the possibility of a magical means of transportation that could be used after the Mage Storms had caught everyone's interest. No one had been able to open Gateways – the previously usable method of magical travel – since the world's magic had been redistributed, and according to those in the know, they wouldn't be able to be used for at least another century. The age and condition of the intruder was another matter entirely.

"Given the last memories Tyrsell could find in her mind, I don't think that she came here intentionally," said the graying Lord of Kelmskeep, Breon.

"I agree," noted Firesong. "In fact, while I think the method of travel was indeed something that her magic performed, I do not believe this was something she herself did."

"What do you mean, it wasn't something she herself did," inquired Wintersky, the head scout of k'Valdemar Vale.

"When father and I went over the magical residue from the spell that brought her here, we found something odd."

"Odd?"

Firesong nodded at his father, Starfall, who answered the question. "While my son and I were inspecting the residual magic from when the child appeared in my home, we found not only her own magic, but traces of divine magic."

"You mean – "

He nodded. "We think, when she wished to be able to be 'anywhere else,' her wish was heard by one of the gods and granted."

There was an excited murmur throughout the hall where they were gathered. Gods didn't meddle on a whim, which meant that the girl was probably going to have something rather important to do in the future.

The council talked and debated for a while longer, and it was about a half an hour before Tyrsell piped up once more, his calm, soothing mind-voice resonating in all their minds.

:: I am willing to implant some of the local languages into her mind. Starfall, as the one who found her, do you find this acceptable? ::

The older mage sat, fingers tapping on his chin in thought, before he nodded. "It will be trying enough to deal with adjusting to living here in the Vale without the added difficulty of being unable to speak the same language as her compounding the issue. If you would teach her Tayledras and Valdemaran, I would appreciate it."

:: I will do so, then. Be aware, I will also be teaching her the Ghostcat Clan's language. You might want to have the _hertasi_ concoct that potion of theirs to ease the pain and help her sleep. ::

He nodded, and looked at Ayshen. The little fellow clicked his claws together, before saying, "I will need some of Healer Keisha's herbs – most of the stores we have in the kitchens are running out. We haven't needed it in a while, so…" He made an odd, almost shrug-like gesture with his arms and shoulders as he trailed off.

Keisha told him that she had just the thing, and the three of them left the council hall. The rest of them chatted on more mundane matters for a while longer, before they too left for their own homes.

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Various herbs and a few berries were crushed in the mortar before Ayshen. The pestle was set off to the side, carefully cleaned so it wouldn't be able to contaminate any later concoctions that were to be made. He had a kettle hanging before the fire, and it was only a short time before it whistled out, proclaiming that its contents had reached its boiling point. He took a carafe, carefully scraped the crushed mixture into the bottom, and poured out a good quantity of boiling water. A small slender rod was grasped in deft, scaly hand and began mixing the contents of the carafe together. He let it steep for a bit, then grabbed the container by the delicate curve of its stylized handle, and made his way outside to where the Healer and _dyheli_ waited.

:: I will implant the languages, and then I will take control of her to drink the tea. While I know you humans and _hertasi_ often find such a thing reprehensible, with her current mindset, she wouldn't accept a drink from someone she doesn't know. ::

Ayshen saw Keisha grimace. His own tail twitched nervously, as well. The abilities of the deer-like people were vast and powerful, but their mindset was so different to both of their own that sometimes it made them uncomfortable. Especially in cases such as this: _dyheli_ were herd-oriented, and the concept of such a thing occurring in their culture was almost commonplace. The King-stag would control the herd to get them to a safer place in case of an attack or natural disaster, and that was considered well and good to them. To other races, however, the very concept was disturbing.

Still, the other two nodded in agreement, and as they made their way to the building Keisha used in her capacity as Healer. The girl, blank of face, but with her eyes full of terror, made her way outside. Her eyes locked with those of Tyrsell's, and then she gave out a pained groan, grasping her head in pain. Then she made her way in an unnaturally stiff fashion towards Ayshen, who poured a cup of the tea, and then she drank it. She then made her way back into the building to endure the headache, and after the herbs kicked in, to rest.

When Keisha went in fifteen minutes later to check on the poor girl, she was out like a torch in a rainstorm.

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When Heather woke up, head still throbbing a bit in pain, she was confused and a bit scared. Last time she was awake, her body had moved without her telling it too! She had gotten up and walked outside, where she had seen the _hertasi_ and _dyheli_ along with the woman in Healer's Greens. Something painful happened, and then her body went and drank a horrible tea, and made its way back inside.

_Wait a moment…_ _Dyheli_? _Hertasi? Healers Greens? What in the world were those?_

Then her mind calmly informed her what exactly those things were, pictures and concepts forming in her head in explanation and she realized that she wasn't even thinking in English! These words and concepts were things totally foreign to her, and then she realized it was not just one, but three different languages in her head. Confused, she curled up in a defensive posture, and she squeaked when a voice began talking to her in her head.

:: Calm down, young one. I am Tyrsell, King-stag of the _dyheli_. :: Information pertaining to the words he spoke flashed across her mind, and he began to explain the situation to her. While the words and their meanings were understood, the concept of people actually caring was something that she just couldn't process.

"It doesn't make sense," and "Life doesn't work that way," were among many of her replies. Her mind kept circling around all these new concepts, unable to process the strangeness of it all.

Animals couldn't talk.

Magic didn't exist, after all.

People don't just help other people.

Freaks weren't allowed to be happy.

As she began to grow tired once more, she closed her eyes. She was lying on a comfortable bed – _she wasn't allowed on a bed_ – covered in warm blankets – _she'd never been allowed to touch any other than to clean it_ – and felt safe. None of it made any sense to her. Her mind was whirling around in confusion before all descended to darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own either the Harry Potter series or the Valdemar Universe. I own the books though. Those are pretty cool.**

**Rant: I think this came out pretty good, though the focus is mostly introspection from two characters, rather than any actions that further the story very much. Darian comes to term with something pretty big, and our heroine gets her Hawkbrother name. Anyway, You'll probably getting a chapter of Gambler or Aspen-Creek Raised, next. **

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Darian and Keisha were curled up together in a large and comfortable chair in front of the fireplace in his ground bound _ekele. _He marveled at the texture of the skin beneath his hands, her lovely visage cast in the soft glow of the firelight, and he couldn't help but have a bone-deep sense of satisfaction at having the most wonderful person in his world curled up like a kitten in his lap. As he felt the rhythmic inhalation and exhalation of her drowsy breath from her back to his chest, he gazed into the dancing and crackling flames and saw into the past.

He watched how the trappers' brat had been raised in the forest, taught to track, to hunt, to trap, and most of all, taught to thrive in the wilderness that was the Pelagiris Forest. He saw the disappearance of his mother and father in one of the Mage Storms, and his apprenticing by the villagers of Errold's Grove to the seemingly ineffectual Wizard named Justyn, and all the trials and tribulations that went into trying to learn magic under the old man's tutelage. He saw the heroic and of the irascible old Wizard and his scruffy familiar, and his meeting with Snowfire while on the run from some of the same group of men that the Old Man had sacrificed himself against to protect the people of Errold's Grove. He watched, seeing himself get taken in by the odd group that was investigating the forest for tainted land - he had been so young back then. After defeating the mage leading the invaders, he had joined the Tayledras, also known as the Hawkbrothers, and spent several years cleaning up bad spots in the Pelagiris Forest left behind after the Mage Storms, all the while learning real magic on the side.

He saw himself bonding to Kuari, his owl, and going to k'Vala Vale and learning under Starfall, before returning to Valdemar and founding the k'Valdemar Vale. Not to mention apprenticing under the famous Healing Adept Firesong. He had been knighted, become a master mage, and had met his lovely Keisha upon his return, as well – and then the two of them had saved the Northern Ghostcat Clan from a terrible disease. Then, they'd gone off on a quest to find his family, and saved them from the remnants of the very people who had invaded Errold's Grove so many years prior. The group had returned, and he and Keisha had married. A few years after that, he had reached Adept status, as well.

All those years gone by, and here he was curled up with the love of his life, a sense of contentment settling over him as he lightly kissed her forehead. At the moment, nothing that happened outside these walls mattered; nothing did, but the girl in his arms. Neither the Council and its worries, Mayor Lutter from Errold's Grove and his sense of self importance, nor the members of the Northern Clans coming down for healing or on a pilgrimage to meet with _the holy deheli_. Not even the odd, abused little girl that had appeared in their Vale, the one who was living with his old teacher Starfall – a fact which worried him greatly, because no child should be treated so poorly – and whose circumstances seemed to be even a trifling bit more important than the girl in his arms because –

…He was going to be a father in eight months.

Still, the child that had appeared from out of nowhere made him think, and a determination filled him to the brim – he swore on his life that his child would grow up happy, and secure in the knowledge that he or she was loved.

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Frostfall. That's what these strange and wonderful people were calling her now.

She liked it, not only because it was radically different from her old name – and therefore, everything that was associated with it, including her past – but also because is was so similar to the kind man who had taken her in.

Starfall, in her humble opinion, was the most awesome guy in the world. Not only was he tall, colorful, and handsome, and had a cool bird as a pet, but he was also a mage! That was pretty much as diametrically opposed to the plain, obsessive normality that the Dursley family had dedicated their life to.

Apparently, the name came because the day she arrived here in k'Valdemar Vale was the first day this year that the Frost had coated their little corner of Velgarth (the world she was apparently now on), but also because of the fact that when she popped into this world, she fell onto Starfall's floor, right in front of him. Plus, it sounded pretty cool. _Frostfall._

The Vale was cool, too. It was beautiful and safe, but her favorite part of the Vale was nothing was that it did not have the rigid, unnatural order that had been imposed on Privet Drive. Everything there had been bland and cookie-cutter perfect – almost disgustingly so. One or two story houses with pastel walls, a patch of grass, and maybe some bushes struggling to survive all behind a decorative and useless waist-high picket fence. The people had been all the same, too – upper middle-class, with the man going off to work and women staying at home, and children sent off to daycare or school and rarely interacted with; moreover, they all seemed to have radiated this irritating smugness that practically shouted "I'm better than you" to everyone not living just like they were.

The food was all tasty, and the freshest things that she had ever eaten before. Everything she had eaten before coming here had been chemically altered fruits and vegetables, or processed meats and boxed foodstuffs from a grocery store. Here, though, everything was as fresh as can be – if it hadn't been caught that day or harvested in the last season, it was still only a few days old or heartily preserved in salt, or pickled.

She was grateful that Tyrsell, the King Stag of the _dyheli_ had given her the written language along with the ability to speak it With that gift, she was learning all sorts of new things. The best part of it was that she didn't get in trouble for doing her best – like she had if she ever outperformed Dudley back in Little Winging. Instead, she was pushed to do her absolute best, anything less was considered an insult to whoever was teaching her or to all the work that the author of the book she was reading put into writing it. The very concept of it was revolutionary to her, and she relished the change occurring within her.

It wasn't to say that everything was easy, or that it all fell into place like in some fairy tale; in fact, even now there were concepts these people were introducing to her that were just beyond her comprehension. Things like how striving to be normal and average was not something one should do, that she had worth, that what the Dursley family had done to her was not only wrong and unfair, but evil.

"Stop holding yourself back; I know your smarter than this," demanded Starfall.

The habit of years was a hard thing to break.

"Everyone has worth," they told her.

She couldn't comprehend it.

"Their actions were wrong, and should have been stopped long ago. No child deserves to be treated like that."

"The world doesn't work that way," she had replied.

She had made quite a bit of headway on many of her issues, or so they told her. She wasn't quite as sure about the whole thing, but she decided it would be better off if she took their word for it.

After all, even if she couldn't quite comprehend _why _they were doing the things they did, or acted this way, she couldn't bring herself to say that she disliked it.


End file.
